Adequate Jewel
by Dinosaur2
Summary: Faramir's story from his first dream of Isildur's Bane forward. PG and Angst rating mostly for later chapters.
1. The Nazgul

Disclaimer: I don't own "Lord of the Rings", obviously. It is the life's work of J.R.R. Tolkien, and he is to be respected. I don't own any of the characters in this story either, therefore I'm following the books in this fic as best as I can.  
  
  
  
Adequate Jewel  
  
By: Dinosaur2  
  
Faramir sat away from the rest of his company, a look of concern the only clue to his emotions. He always felt distraught when faced with the prospects of battle ahead of him, and the ruins of Osgiliath that surrounded him would not provide any protection for him, he realized, if the Dark Lord's forces were to attack.  
  
Faramir sighed. It seemed to be a curse that he was good at something that he truly hated. The men of Gondor looked up to him, for he was the son of the Steward of Gondor, and when he put his heart into it he could defend himself nearly as well as his brother could defend himself. But Faramir's heart belonged in the lore and tales of old, where fathers loved all of their sons and there was usually a happy ending.  
  
The warrior looked toward the sky and spotted a particularly bright star. It reminded him of Boromir, his brother, for it shone like a treasured jewel set in the sky, and as he stared at it Faramir felt new hope in him. Faramir knew he could never be like that star or his brother. The Lord Steward would be sure to remind him if he ever forgot.  
  
Faramir heard footsteps coming towards him and silently reached for his sword. With one motion he stood up and pulled it out of its sheath and turned to face his unseen opponent.  
  
"Your reaction time is getting better," said the man. "Father would be pleased."  
  
Faramir relaxed and put away his sword. "I have you to thank for that, Boromir. You taught me everything I knew."  
  
"Your watch has been over for some time," Boromir said. "Go get some rest. I don't want to see you perish in battle for lack of sleep."  
  
"Only a failure would allow that to happen to him," Faramir said. Like myself, he added in his thoughts.  
  
"No son of Denethor is a failure," Boromir said, as if reading his brother's mind. "Your time will come, Faramir. Soon there will be no more battles for us to fight together, and then you can study whatever tales of the Elder Days you wish."  
  
Faramir smiled. "You've eased my mind, Boromir. I'll see you in the morning."  
  
With that, he left his brother to watch over the company, and fell quickly into a peaceful slumber.  
  
***  
  
"In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying:  
  
Seek for the Sword that was broken:  
  
In Imladris it dwells;  
  
There shall be counsels taken  
  
Stronger than Morgul-spells.  
  
There shall be shown a token  
  
That Doom is near at hand,  
  
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,  
  
And the Halfling forth shall stand." (Tolkien, "The Fellowship of the Ring", pg. 240)  
  
***  
  
Faramir awoke from his dream confused. He could not understand the riddle, but the thought of doom being near and counsels stronger than Morgul-spells worried him.  
  
Boromir should have been the one to have the dream; after all, he was the future Steward of Gondor. Faramir was just the second son. But Boromir showed no signs of troubled sleep, so Faramir decided not to burden the captain with a simple dream when an army of orcs could be marching toward them at any minute.  
  
The company marched triumphantly to the bridge that crossed the Anduin, the one place where the Enemy could reach their shore, and there they waited.  
  
***  
  
Battle came quicker than they intended. Many of the men that had been sent to Ithilien cam running back across the bridge with a look of terror in their eyes. Then Faramir saw the army of orcs.  
  
It was a small army, considering the tales of old concerning the Nameless Enemy. Faramir could not understand why the men were so frightened. Then he saw the shadow.  
  
It seemed like a rider cloaked in black on a black horse. Nothing could be seen under the cloak, not even a face. Faramir remembered reading about the terror of the Nazgul, but never in his deepest fears had he considered he might have to face one.  
  
Many of the men in his company fled, but Faramir stood strong when he saw Boromir step forward to meet the enemy. At that moment, Faramir recalled the tale of Boromir I, the captain even the Witch-king feared. Faramir stepped forward to meet the Nazgul and smiled confidently.  
  
Boromir glanced at Faramir and a look of horror came to his face. "Faramir, go back! They're about to destroy the bridge!"  
  
"Then let the sons of Denethor face their fate together," said Faramir.  
  
Boromir smiled and turned back toward the Nazgul and orcs.  
  
Faramir felt trapped in some song of old as he slew the orcs that came. He noticed two other men had joined them, but did not take the time to note whom they were, since he was much more concerned about staying alive.  
  
Then the bridge fell out from under them, and Faramir swam as quickly as he could to the other shore.  
  
--- That's the end of Chapter 1. Please review and tell me what you think. 


	2. The Dream Returns

Chapter 2: The Dream Returns  
  
Faramir swam harder than he ever had before, or every would again. He was alone in the cold water, and the Nazgul was still nearby. Faramir vainly scanned the water for his brother as he swam to shore and collapsed on the ground. He saw men carrying Boromir away from the shore, and noted with happiness that Boromir was breathing. Then all went dark as Faramir lost conciousness.  
  
***  
  
Faramir rested now that he had no fear of the invading army for some time. The orcs would not swim across the water until the Nazgul returned, and the Nazgul had returned to Mordor. This is what news he could gain from the healers caring for him. His dream, which he had forgotten in the heat of battle, now returned to him whenever he slept.  
  
Seek for the Sword that was Broken.  
  
Faramir could not decipher the riddle. What good would a broken sword be against an ever-growing shadow? Gondor needed more captains like his brother, not a useless weapon.  
  
Isildur's Bane shall awaken.  
  
Faramir remembered Gandalf had asked to see the ancient scrolls of Minas Tirith concerning Isildur. The wizard had appeared worried at the time, and now Faramir was worried as well. What could Isildur's Bane be? It must be something too terrible and dangerous to imagine if it even worried Mithrandir.  
  
Faramir remembered when he was young, when Gandalf encouraged him to read about the great tales instead of simply listening to him. Faramir loved exploring the old library, but his father always scolded him for going there. Sons of the Steward were supposed to train to become great captains, and then become great leaders of men, because eventually they would rule until the king returned or they passed the staff on to a son. None of this included studying rotting scrolls at all hours.  
  
Faramir sighed. His father knew best, but sometimes he wondered if Denethor simply wanted him to be another Boromir. At any rate, though the tales did nothing to aid Faramir in real life, they helped him to escape his world of being the second best. Sometimes when the nights were cold and the men despaired, Faramir was able to tell a tale to boost morale. It was one of the few things that Faramir was good at that he actually enjoyed doing.  
  
If only Father could have seen Boromir and I fighting as equals, thought Faramir. Maybe Boromir could tell him when we come home. Father wouldn't believe me.  
  
Faramir drifted into sleep and once again saw the strange dream. But when he awakened, he noticed something was different.  
  
Boromir was sitting up, and his eyes showed that he was deeply troubled about something.  
  
"What is the matter, Boromir?" Faramir asked nervously. Boromir did not usually show what was on his mind when he was troubled; something was clearly wrong.  
  
"A...a dream came to me," Boromir said. "All was dark, except..."  
  
"...for a pale light in the West. Was there...a voice?" Faramir asked.  
  
"Yes," Boromir said. "It was terrible. It spoke of doom near at hand."  
  
"You had the same dream I had," Faramir said. In a way, he was relieved that he could talk to someone who had seen the same thing. But he now knew that the dream was not just something his mind had made up after reading too many scrolls. "I have been having it since the eve before the bridge attack."  
  
"Why haven't you said something before?" Boromir asked, as if it was amazing his brother was able to keep something this important to himself.  
  
"I did not wish to trouble you, with the Enemy so near," Faramir said. "But I think we must ask Father what Imladris is, and what we should do. He is wiser than both of us in such matters."  
  
"Indeed," Boromir said. "We will go as soon as we have both recovered our strength. But next time, Faramir, do not keep such secrets to yourself. I would not have your mind wasted troubling over the fate of Middle-Earth all alone. You are destined for greater things than that."  
  
----  
  
In the next chapter, Denethor appears! And I promise he's not going to be some inhuman old dotard like in other fics. Please review. 


	3. Boromir Leaves

"That is all I have to report, Lord Steward," Faramir said after he had completed his tale. It had taken several hours to tell his father everything that had happened, for Denethor payed attention to every detail and often wanted clarification on some of the information. Boromir had aided Faramir as much as he could, but it was obvious Denethor was critical of Faramir's message.  
  
Denethor sat in his chair pondering his younger son's words. "You leave the battle for Osgiliath to tell me of a dream?" he asked finally. "Men are dying out there, Faramir, and they expect the son of their Steward to be willing to die with them."  
  
"I know," Faramir sighed. "And I would not have come if I did not think it was important. The dream has come to me almost every night since it first came. Surely you must know where this Imladris is."  
  
"Imladris of old was the name for Rivendell," Denethor stated. "But it was an Elven kingdom that is probably gone and forgotten by now."  
  
"Father, if I could only go there and find out-"  
  
"Silence!" Denethor shouted. "It is an impossibility. I cannot have a soldier of Gondor chasing a dream."  
  
"Father, the dream came to me as well," Boromir said calmly.  
  
Denethor's stern frown turned to a look of worry. "You, Boromir?"  
  
Boromir nodded.   
  
"Faramir, you have my leave to go. Be prepared to return when I need to speak to you again."  
  
***   
  
Faramir was in the courtyard for what seemed like an unnaturally long amount of time. He felt like the dead stump of the White Tree that he was sitting under. He had seen a few flashes of light from the tower, and that only happened when his father was in a bad mood. What in Middle-Earth could he and Boromir possibly be discussing?  
  
A guard walked up to him and saluted. "Lord Faramir, the Steward asks to speak to you."  
  
"Thank you, Beregond," Faramir said as he got up.  
  
***  
  
"Boromir has told me of your bravery, Faramir, and I have made my decision." Denethor said, "You are to be made a Captain of Gondor, and you are to take Boromir's place."   
  
This was not what Faramir was expecting, but he was happy about the promotion. "Thank you, Lord Steward, but I do not understand; why am I taking Boromir's place?"  
  
"He is going to Imladris to investigate this dream of yours; I expect he will return to Minas Tirith as soon as he can, so you do not need to worry about him."  
  
Faramir could not believe it; Boromir had taken his mission!  
  
***  
  
"I cannot explain it, Faramir," Boromir said as he was packing. "As soon as you left, Father went into his room and was there for almost an hour. When he came in, he was eager to let me go, but not you."  
  
"But why? I'm an able fighter, and you need to stay here to take Father's staff when he dies!" exclaimed Faramir.   
  
Boromir put his hand on Faramir's shoulder. "That's exactly why I need to go. I am only skilled with the sword; you are the one with the wisdom to lead our people. I would have what is best for Gondor. I would have you be the Steward."  
  
Faramir felt tears coming to his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. "I can never be as good of a Captain as you."  
  
"You've always said you wanted to prove yourself to Father; here's your chance! My mission is far more dangerous, and I would rather take death myself than worry about my younger brother getting killed. Be strong for Gondor, Faramir. And be strong for me."  
  
Boromir then mounted his horse and rode out of the city gate. Faramir felt in his heart that he never see his brother again. 


	4. Hope is Lost

"The battles go well, Lord Steward," Captain Faramir said. He had held his position as Captain for several months, and there was still no sign of Boromir's return. He had to make due with what he had. "We have only lost two men in our stealth combat, and few orcs come near Ithilien anymore."  
  
"Have you checked the roads?" asked Denethor.   
  
"No, sir, but-"  
  
"Why not? This is a huge oversight! Every day those roads are undefended more forces of evil can reach Mordor."  
  
"I am mounting an expedition into that area as we speak." said Faramir. "I have been busy securing our defenses."  
  
"What good will our defenses be if there are too many of our enemies? I suggest you leave with your best men soon. Leave my presense."  
  
As Faramir turned to leave, he heard the most horrible of sounds: it was the echo of the Horn of Gondor reaching Minas Tirith. He rushed outside, desperately trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. Beregond and some of the other Guards had heard it as well.  
  
"It came from the North," said Beregond. "Perhaps it is Boromir announcing his return to Minas Tirith!"   
  
"If he was announcing his return to Minas Tirith, he would not use the Horn of Gondor." said Faramir, trying desperately to be strong and not show his emotions. "But if he is returning, we must send out a welcome party. I will gather a group of men to find him."  
  
***  
  
When the men returned, it was not with Boromir. His body was nowhere to be found, but two men had found shards of the Horn of Gondor, the heirloom of the Stewards. Faramir had the sad duty of returning the Horn of Gondor to Denethor.  
  
Denethor held the broken shards of Boromir's horn and began to sob. When he could speak, he glared at Faramir.  
  
"This is your fault!" he cried. "You and your ridiculous dream! Now the house of the Stewards will die out, and Gondor will fall."  
  
"There is still a chance for Gondor to be saved," Faramir said. "Boromir would not have us lose hope at a time like this."  
  
"Boromir is dead," Denethor stated. "He should have died in honor, falling like the proud captain he was. He should have had his friends defend him until either they died or the orcs that killed him were defeated. He should have been buried in honor. But he will have none of thes e honors, thanks to you."  
  
Faramir could not control his tears anymore.  
  
"So now you feel sorrow?" Denethor asked. "Now you are pained by this? Get out of my sight. Leave this city, until you have secured the roads and Mordor's forces are defeated at last. Then, if you live, you may return."  
  
***  
  
If Faramir had seen the look of sorrow on the faces of his people as he left, if he knew that they were mourning him as well as his brother, and if he had seen the flashes of light from the tower of Ecthelion, perhaps he would have felt differently. As it was, he could only remember the broken Horn of Gondor on the lap of the Steward. 


End file.
